Tekster: Mathematics. The Problem. Can I Rise.

(feat. Hot Flames)

[Intro: Hot Flames]
Yeah... it's that pain
Strongarm, Mathematics, yeah, yo

[Hot Flames]
Sometimes I zone out, starin' at the wall with the chrome out
I'm broke, but I'm black, so I can't take a loan out
Judges sendin' me in, cases hardly gettin' thrown out
Lost in the system, fam, like I miss 'em
Had a smart mouth, so the gods probably twist 'em
On the floor leaking, til the meds come and stitch 'em
Little brother got that, cops pistol whipped 'em
Heard he in the gay house, faggot nigga pimpin' him
Thought he was a thug, look what the world did to him
Everything's changing, everybody banging
Every where you go in this world, niggaz hating
Used to kick ass, now he take it in the anus
Told his moms, phone hit the floor when she fainted
She a Jehovah witness, she blamin' it on Satan
Both sons locked up, spend her nights prayin'
Welfare washed up, living in the basement
Daughter on the strip, now, hoe and for nathin'
Moms got arthritis, hands keep shaking
Couple months passed, now she buried in the pavement
Fifteen alcoholic, whole life wasted

[Chorus x2: Hot Flames]
Can I rise? And get to the laugh, through the cries
While I'm alive, the projects, the hood through my eyes
No lies, people relyin' or just enough cash
To survive, I'mma strive, to the top, before I die

[Hot Flames]
Little man again, tired of people making fun of him
Poppy spaz out, if you put the gun in front of him
O.G. hustling nigga, gave him a pack
Told him to, hold his head and gave him a gat
Shorty coming through, whips now, we started to stack
Started hanging out with pimps now, started to mack
Flossin', his lady got pregnant, had an abortion
Cops raided his crib, took half of his fortune
The other half that he had, was the O.G.'s potion
He's left for nothing, thirty thou', down the drain
Now he mad the gate, that he fouled the game
He got knocked, lost his dough, write after, he lost his hoes
Did a year, then they off of parole
Five years, it took that, couldn't wait to get home
But that O.G. hustler, was waiting with chrome
He owed him, twenty five, only gave him fifteen
He thought, being that he did time, the nigga wouldn't see him
But he did, came home and he was waiting in his crib
Came in his door, he had his lady, suckin' his dick
Down to the floor, he spazzed out, thought she was cheating
Til he seen her face was beaten, he had no gun
But he did start swinging, the O.G. whistle
Three niggaz came in with pistols, poppin'
And left, his last words, were 'baby, I miss you'

[Chorus x2]

[Hot Flames]
Son, started rappin at 12, by 15, he was sick
His whole hood thought he had potential, to be the next B.I.G
So many rap niggaz, offered to put him under the table
But he signed with no lawyer, to an underground label
Everything was good at first, so he was feeling the vibe
I mean, he knew he was gonna struggle, but he was willing to ride
They had him on some pretty shit, and it was killing his pride
But he held it in, kept it all, hittin' in sides
See, he was gutter since birth, he didn't know about flossin'
Coppin' him new Benz, he didn't know it was gon' cost him
He ain't know if he ain't blowin', he gon' wind up owein'
And that brand new car, they gonna wind up towin'
It's more than music, everything is based on business
He's a hard headed little nigga, never would listen
Signed off his publishing, for half of his spinach
Spaz out on 'em, and his whole career was finished
Til he signed to another label, and repaired his image
Got back on that hard shit, they ain't feelin' him now
Hand fools, last year, he was killing the crowd
Now he can't even go gold, he gettin' tired of the game
Niggaz makin' fun of his name, he gettin' tired of the shame
Took it out on his dame, now he locked in the bang, it's crazy
It's how we live, yeah..

[Chorus x2]

[Outro: Hot Flames]
Can I Rise?
Can I Rise?